<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Points Underneath by imtelevisionsmoirarose</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514102">Points Underneath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtelevisionsmoirarose/pseuds/imtelevisionsmoirarose'>imtelevisionsmoirarose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coming Together [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, Canon Compliant, Communication, David Rose Deserves Nice Things, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, David Rose is a Good Person, Emerging Bedroom Dynamics, Feelings, Feels, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer is a Button, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s04e04 Girls' Night, Service Top Patrick Brewer, Take Charge Brewer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:07:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtelevisionsmoirarose/pseuds/imtelevisionsmoirarose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David contemplates his Freudian slip and the significance of labels following Girls' Night.<br/>_______________________</p><p>“I’m sorry—what did you just say?”</p><p>He spins back around and Patrick smiles up at him from the chair as the realization hits. David’s heart is racing and he can feel his face getting hot.</p><p>Boyfriend. He said boyfriend. </p><p>Fuck.  </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Coming Together [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>321</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Points Underneath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Thank you for reading the third installment of the series. Title is another song from The Honorary Title. This piece actually kind of combines both series I've started but it felt good. The prose Patrick reads is a love sonnet from Pablo Neruda.</p><p>Please come say hi on tumblr at im-televisions-moira-rose.tumblr.com :)  — I love making new friends from this fandom and am always looking for people to bounce ideas off of!</p><p>Special thanks to Olive31 for talking me through some of the rougher moments of writing ❤️</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“I’m sorry—what did you just say?”</p><p class="p1">He spins back around and Patrick smiles up at him from the chair as the realization hits. David’s heart is racing and he can feel his face getting hot.</p><p class="p1">Boyfriend. He said boyfriend. </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Fuck.  </em>
</p><p class="p1">David’s mind winds back to the night at Stevie’s when Jake had made his surprise guest appearance; he stumbled over his words until Patrick had introduced himself. He’d almost said boyfriend then too, but it was all so new and he didn’t want to scare Patrick off.</p><p class="p1">David had been called all sorts of things in his sordid history of physical and sometimes catastrophically emotional relationships, but boyfriend wasn’t really one of them. No one had ever been eager to claim David as their own and he recognized that all too well, so generally, as a method of self-preservation, he chose to steer clear of labeling things, just in case.</p><p class="p1">“I said <em>the breath mints need to move.</em>” He snaps, gesturing to the cash register, trying to smooth over his slip of tongue.</p><p class="p1">Patrick raises his eyebrows inquisitively and David’s heart jumps; He can tell Patrick is thrilled at the opportunity to needle him.</p><p class="p1">“I think it was something about your boyfriend’s shoes?” His soft smile twists David inside and he widens his eyes and rolls them in faux-thoughtful confusion, pulling his lower lip into his mouth anxiously.</p><p class="p1">“Um. I don’t remember saying that.” </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, no, that’s what I heard.” Stevie nods, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, expressionless, always the objective third party. He knows she’s loving this too. </p><p class="p1"><em>How have I, once again, surrounded myself with such horrible bullies? </em>He thinks to himself, his heart humming with fondness.</p><p class="p1">He widens his eyes at her in indignation and to his dismay, Patrick continues, lifting a heavily sneakered foot onto the stool in front of him. He unties one shoe.</p><p class="p1">“Hey, if my boyfriend doesn’t like the shoes I could–I could take the shoes off.” He says, his eyes warm and teasing. Daring.</p><p class="p1">David takes a step back and silently panics; he is absolutely unable to resist that energy. Patrick is Chaotic Good in every single way David never dreamed he’d be and it pretty much always catches him by surprise. </p><p class="p1">“I mean or not. I don’t remember saying it. So. You can do whatever you’d like.” </p><p class="p1">They stare at each other for a long moment and David feels the challenge. Stevie’s eyes ping between their faces, sensing the vibe and she stands up.</p><p class="p1">“I think my work here is done.” She states proudly, throwing the plunger over her shoulder and making her way to the door. </p><p class="p1">“And what work is that exactly?” David chirps back, shrugging his arms. She just grins and walks out with a tip of her head. His eyes dart back to Patrick who is still, to his horror, untying one of the sneakers with the world’s sweetest grin on his face. His smile suffocates David, holds him steady. David softens.</p><p class="p1">“My boyfriend doesn’t like the shoes so I’m gonna take the shoes off.” </p><p class="p1">He’s aflame just with the warmth of Patrick’s gaze as he allows himself to be pulled into his orbit, sauntering sheepishly up to Patrick’s lap and slowly perching on two sturdy, denim-clad thighs. Grinning with his eyebrows raised, eyes on Patrick’s mouth, he wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders and delights when Patrick's hands on the sneakers make their way instead to his thigh and lower back. </p><p class="p1">“Okay, no. Before you do that, um, I just wanna let you know that, uh, sock feet in a public place is also <em>incorrect</em>.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick leans in, his smoldering gaze locked on David’s mouth.</p><p class="p1">“We do what we have to do.” He murmurs heatedly as he falls against David’s lips. David’s stomach flips at those words, remembering a time he’d spoken them and he flushes again. </p><p class="p1"><em>What the fuck? Why is he being bashful?</em> <em>He can talk to Patrick about wanting to lick his asshole, but he’s afraid of establishing their relationship?</em></p><p class="p1">Oh god, yikes. This is so much worse than he thought. He winces internally as they break apart. </p><p class="p1">“So. I can tell people you’re my boyfriend, now?” Patrick asks, attempting to sound casual but echoing with an aching sincerity that turns David inside out. </p><p class="p1">“I mean. If you need a label I would be fine with that, even though it’s a little bit heteronormative for my tastes.” David answers haughtily, trailing off as Patrick angles him into another hungry kiss. </p><p class="p1">“You can call me whatever you like as long as you call me something.” Patrick murmurs, blushing and looking away. </p><p class="p1">David’s heart skips and he rubs the back of Patrick’s neck reassuringly.</p><p class="p1">“So I take it that means you like it when I call you honey?”</p><p class="p1">Patrick nods, still blushing.</p><p class="p1">“And babe?” </p><p class="p1">Another nod. </p><p class="p1">“And I know you definitely like baby.” Patrick blushes again. David’s eyes dance and his cock twitches as he remembers the most recent occasion he called Patrick baby.</p><p class="p1">“Is there anything else you’d like me to try?” David purrs, sensing Patrick’s interest, carefully pushing. “What about…daddy?” </p><p class="p1">Patrick eyes flash but he groans a choked laugh, bringing a hand to his face and shaking his head.</p><p class="p1">“Jesus David. We’d need some context for that first.” </p><p class="p1">“Um, isn’t ‘Rail me, daddy!,’ context enough?”</p><p class="p1">He smiles shyly but doesn’t answer. </p><p class="p1">“I didn’t even ask you about slut or whore yet.” David continues dryly, purely for shock value. Patrick pulls his head back, eyes wide on David’s face and brows raised, wearing his upside down smile and blushing fiercely from his eyebrows down. David’s laugh rings clear like a bell.  </p><p class="p1">“Mhm. Okay. Yep. We’ll lock that box back up for now.” He nods, his entire upper body rocking back and forth on Patrick’s lap. Patrick nods vaguely behind him, still pink. </p><p class="p1"><em>Baby steps, </em>he thinks, fingers slightly pulling at the hair on the back of Patrick’s neck, scratching there lightly. Patrick sighs in pleasure, rolling his head back against David’s hand, relaxing his neck. It’s been a long day. </p><p class="p1">David wonders to himself what the boyfriendly thing would be to do. </p><p class="p1">“If you’d like.” He starts, “I could come home with you tonight. Maybe I can give you a scalp massage in the shower?”</p><p class="p1">“You would do that for me?” Patrick asks, voice low, his eyes on David’s lips. Intentionally instigating. David squirms a little on his lap. </p><p class="p1">“Mhm. Yep.” He nods again, eyes wide and brows raised, ignoring Patrick’s gaze on his mouth. Patrick squeezes his thigh until it hurts <em>just a little</em>. </p><p class="p1">“Go get your bag.” He swats David on the hip with the back of his hand. </p><p class="p1">David slides off Patrick’s warm lap and walks over to the desk to grab his bag from under the register, looking over his shoulder at Patrick as he walks. Patrick’s hungry eyes follow him the entire time and David can feel his blood rushing as he stops back at Patrick’s side. </p><p class="p1">“I grabbed a couple of the massage oils, too.” David wiggles his eyebrows. “You know. Research purposes.” </p><p class="p1">Patrick tilts his head down, angling his eyes up at David. </p><p class="p1">“You know we have to pay for those, right?”</p><p class="p1">David sighs, throwing a hand up in indignation.</p><p class="p1">“Yes. Fine. Whatever. Put it on my tab.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick pulls him into a kiss before walking past him to grab the door. He smiles. </p><p class="p1">“Okay. David.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">David doesn’t usually like showering with a partner because it’s generally his time to think, and since he’s been living in the motel, it’s also his only guaranteed alone time, something he values endlessly as an introvert.</p><p class="p1">It’s different with Patrick, though. Like everything else with Patrick is. </p><p class="p1">He’s still embarrassed about the day in one too many ways—the brattiness, the inflexibility, his inability to keep his mouth shut. It’s times like these David wishes he could make himself smaller. That he could be insignificant and unassuming rather than conspicuous and difficult to miss. Generally he thrives on attention but mistakes are a lot easier for him to deal with when he doesn’t feel like everyone knows he made them. Pride is one thing David wears like a shield and it is always the first thing damaged.</p><p class="p1">What he doesn’t understand is how Patrick is so gentle. It’s almost worrisome how his irritating quirks and obsessive mannerisms don’t seem to bother him. How Patrick thinks they’re actually sweet or endearing instead. Somehow, he takes the sharp, painful parts of David and makes them soft. He rounds their edges and sands them down and keeps them close until David can manage to hold them without hurting.</p><p class="p1">He ponders on that as Patrick runs fingers through his soapy hair, lightly pressing his chest against David’s back.</p><p class="p1">“Mhm. Okay. Little circles. It stimulates the follicles.” David tips his head back to give Patrick a better vantage point. </p><p class="p1">Patrick grins, glad David can’t see his face as he rolls his eyes and simultaneously focuses all his energy into massaging David’s scalp. David hears himself let out a little groan of pleasure.</p><p class="p1">“That feels so nice. Your fingers are multi-talented, Mr. Brewer.” He smiles. He can’t see Patrick’s face but he can feel him blushing.</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t realize the promise of a scalp massage had been mutual, David.” Patrick shakes his head, an exasperated smile on his face. ”I’m done. Rinse.” David peeks over his shoulder to flash a coy grin. </p><p class="p1">They awkwardly shuffle past each other to change positions under the shower head and David stands with his back to it, chin down, letting the spray spill over his hair. He watches as Patrick shyly lets his eyes rake over David’s body under the running water, following droplets down his neck, over his dark nipples, in and out of his bellybutton. David’s notes Patrick’s cock looks heavy, his arousal slowly awakening.</p><p class="p1">“What?” he asks, grinning a little, shaking his head slightly.</p><p class="p1">Patrick echoes his head shake and says nothing, looking down and blushing. </p><p class="p1">“Nothing. You’re just…” he trails off, gesturing weakly at David. </p><p class="p1">“Just what?” David is running his hands through his hair under the shower head, squeezing out any leftover suds and his eyebrow is still cocked. </p><p class="p1">“Sometimes I worry I’m not enough.” Patrick chokes out, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck nervously. “For you, I mean.”</p><p class="p1">Buying himself time to process, David leans back all the way, letting the spray of the shower hit him directly in the face and shakes his head, eyes closed, heart throbbing. Patrick couldn’t be more <em>incorrect</em>. He leans forward again, wiping water out of his eyes and squints slightly.</p><p class="p1">“Is this about the slut thing?” He asks matter-of-factly, a hand on his hip. Patrick’s eyes answer and he looks away again.</p><p class="p1">David leans forward and catches Patrick’s mouth with his, water dripping down the sides of his face. When they break apart, David draws Patrick to him under the shower head, belly to belly, hands wrapped around the small of Patrick’s back. </p><p class="p1">“Okay. Here’s the thing—I only said that because I knew it would rattle you.” David grins, his hands pulsing against Patrick’s warm skin. He shakes his head. “I like rattling you. You’re always so sure about everything; It’s fun to make you squirm.” His eyes flash a little, and Patrick blushes. “There were absolutely zero hidden expectations tied to that—okay?” </p><p class="p1">Patrick nods softly, looking up at him with those big, warm eyes and David could just melt and wash away down the drain. </p><p class="p1">“Okay, David.” </p><p class="p1">David purses his lips thoughtfully.</p><p class="p1">“Also, that’s definitely not something I generally say during sex unless there’s been a relatively lengthy discussion about it. So. We can revisit any time you’d like.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick nods shyly again and David winks, leaning in for another kiss. </p><p class="p1">“Okay. Now that that’s settled.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles, hands on Patrick’s shoulders, rotating him and angling him under the water. “Let me wash your back. And I still owe you a scalp massage.”  </p><p class="p1">Patrick grins, looking back at him as David lathers his hands and starts to rub them over his broad, muscular shoulders.</p><p class="p1">David lets himself admire Patrick’s strong frame as he works his way down, savoring the feeling of Patrick’s supple, wet body under his fingertips. Patrick is shorter than he is, but he’s so muscular and well-proportioned; his sturdiness drives David wild. He inhales deeply as his fingers reach the dimples above Patrick’s ass and he lets his thumbs trace them, feeling warmth ignite low in his belly.  </p><p class="p1">It’s no secret that David desperately wants to play with Patrick’s ass. They dance around that fact often, whenever David makes a passing comment or watches him on the ladder too long or gives Patrick a firm squeeze when he scoots past him behind the counter at the store. But the last thing he wants is to make Patrick feel pressured or uncomfortable, so he draws the line there. He’ll accept nothing less than enthusiastic consent the first time Patrick allows him to get acquainted with his asshole. Still. It doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to look. </p><p class="p1">Biting his bottom lip, he lets his hands wander further down, one on each cheek, fingers rubbing circles over them gently. He feels Patrick tense slightly, shifting his weight between his feet and clearing his throat. David thrills at the sensation of Patrick leaning ever so slightly back against him. He applies a bit more pressure to his palms and allows himself to squeeze them gently, kneading Patrick’s cheeks together and then apart, daring to pull back slowly to catch a glimpse of his hole, his mouth falling open. David’s lungs burn as he inhales, the heat of the moment completely consuming him. He leans in to the nape of Patrick’s neck, resting his forehead against it, watching his hands move. </p><p class="p1">“Is this okay, baby?” He murmurs, his breath hot against Patrick’s spine. Patrick’s head falls back, resting against David’s and he hums in affirmation. </p><p class="p1">David is hard now and he lets himself press softly against Patrick’s body, nestling the length of his cock in the cleft of Patrick’s ass, snug between the perfect cheeks. Just for a moment. Patrick inhales sharply and then David raises his chin, kisses the nape of Patrick’s neck and turns to get more body wash.</p><p class="p1">And it’s over. </p><p class="p1">David’s mouth is dry and his knees actually tremble as he mentally recovers from the intensity of the moment prior. Patrick is still facing away from him but David notices that he has a firm hand up on the wall and is leaning against it. He hopes that means it made his knees weak too. </p><p class="p1">David clears his throat.</p><p class="p1">“Um. How about that scalp massage? My mother used to force me to rub her back to earn my allowance so I have plenty of practice.”</p><p class="p1">“David, I’m going to ask you to never talk about you touching your mother for money again while we’re both naked.” Patrick says, splashing water over his face, voice even.</p><p class="p1">“That is a fair request.” David nods, lathering shampoo between his hands and making grabby motions at Patrick’s hair. He obediently leans back into David’s elegant fingers, the weight of his head resting against his palms. David fingertips rake small, firm circles all over Patrick’s scalp and David feels him exhale quietly. His heart aches as he wonders when Patrick last let himself soften.</p><p class="p1">“That feels really good, David.” Patrick rotates his neck in little circles and David’s hands move there, kneading gently.</p><p class="p1">“Not to sound like the beginning of a really bad porn, but—god, you’re tense.” David tuts, applying firmer pressure to his thumbs on Patrick’s spine. Patrick stretches his neck to the right and rolls his shoulders.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just—I, uh, carry all my stress in my shoulders and neck. Doctors say it’s very unhealthy.”</p><p class="p1">“Mm. Anything you want to talk about?” David tries to sound casual but his voice is too high and too quick.</p><p class="p1">Patrick holds his breath, freezing for a moment as if making a decision. David feels his body stutter and then he shakes his head.</p><p class="p1">“No, David.” He’s quiet for a moment and then adds, “Not right now. It’s just some stuff back home.”</p><p class="p1">David wants to needle but he feels the tension pulling like a string between their bellies. His fingers drift back up to Patrick’s scalp again, making those same reassuring circles.</p><p class="p1"><em>I’m here for you,</em> he thinks. David imagines each fingertip rubbing a different affirmation into Patrick’s head. <em>I support you. You are capable. You are strong. You are generous. You are kind. You are sexy as fuck. </em></p><p class="p1">Patrick is grabbing his wrists.</p><p class="p1">“Okay your lathering is very enthusiastic and I’m getting shampoo in my eyes now so I’m gonna rinse.”</p><p class="p1">Holding David’s hands away, he steps under the shower head again, rinsing off the offending shampoo and David watches him carefully.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>What is so heavy?</em>
</p><p class="p1">“I think I’m finished.” He reaches out of the curtain to grab the towel Patrick had given him. “See you in your room?”</p><p class="p1">Patrick nods, eyes closed, still letting the water pour over his head, wiping his hands down his face. He looks exhausted and David’s chest tightens again.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, David. I’ll be there in a minute.”</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Alone in Patrick’s room, David can’t sit still. The mixed energy from the shower has him confused and uneasy and he’s trying to distract himself by any means necessary. He bounces from dresser to closet to bed with no agenda, letting his head and hands wander against his better judgment, trying to fill the pit in his stomach.</p><p class="p1">Finally, he perches in Patrick’s desk chair, mindlessly rolling back and forth between the desk and the bed. He ponders on how Patrick’s life before Schitt’s Creek is basically a giant question mark to him. Sure—here and there he catches glimpses—bits and pieces of how things might have been. And what he’s seen seems to track—happy childhood, varsity sports, supportive parents. He’s briefly chatted with Patrick’s mom a couple of times when she’s called the store looking for him and she seems lovely and warm. <em>So where is the wound?</em></p><p class="p1">David studies the items on Patrick’s desk—a mug of pens and pencils, his laptop, a Toronto Blue Jays daily calendar, a little round clock. All innocuous and benign. Carefully, he opens the center desk drawer, eyebrows raised and peeking guiltily. Inside is a stack of envelopes, more pens and a small leather-bound book and David’s stomach jumps; he knows should not be doing this but he can’t stop himself. He picks up the book like it might burn him and lifts the built-in bookmark, opening it gingerly. Patrick’s tidy scrawl jumps off the page.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Love Poem<br/>
</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It's so nice<br/>
to wake up in the morning<br/>
all alone<br/>
and not have to tell somebody<br/>
you love them<br/>
when you don't love them<br/>
any more.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">―</span>  <b> <em>Richard Brautigan</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“I thought you said you don’t snoop.”</p><p class="p1">David quickly drops the journal back in the drawer and clumsily slams it shut, whipping around in the chair to face a fresh, bemused Patrick who is standing in the doorway wearing a small, exasperated smile.</p><p class="p1">Shit. Caught red handed.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” David shakes his head, his hands waving wildly in an attempt to convey nonchalance.</p><p class="p1">“So you found my Commonplace book.” Patrick slowly pads over to the desk and reaches behind David to open the drawer, grabbing the small journal again and smacking David’s knee with it softly. His eyes are illegible and the pit in David’s stomach opens wider.</p><p class="p1">“Mmm. What’s that you’ve got in your hand there? Never seen that before.” Patrick laughs, shaking his head and then climbs onto the bed in his sweats, legs stretched out and ankles crossed, patting the spot next to him. His t-shirt is slightly damp and David can see his nipples pebbling softly underneath the white cotton.</p><p class="p1">“Come here.”</p><p class="p1">David obliges bashfully, getting up from the chair and awkwardly crawling over Patrick like a hesitant crab to the empty side of the bed. He lets himself settle against Patrick’s left shoulder, pressing the edges of their bodies together like the teeth of a zipper.</p><p class="p1">“So.” His hand snakes underneath Patrick’s shirt to rest against his warm stomach and Patrick makes a small, contented noise in the back of his throat. He opens the book on his lap to the first few pages.</p><p class="p1">“So you might already have noticed this, but I’m not the most creative person in the world.” David hums in agreement as Patrick’s ears redden. Sweet man’s artistic vision was exceptionally limited.</p><p class="p1">“But I do like to read.” Patrick continues. “And a lot of times I come across something that—I don’t know—echoes in my soul?” He winces, as if that’s not a ridiculously poetic thing to say so nonchalantly. “And I put it in here. I started this one a couple months before I left home but I have a few complete volumes.”</p><p class="p1">David is struck speechless for the second time that night.</p><p class="p1">“Anyways, these pages are the table of contents. And anytime I add something, it goes here too. And the edges of the pages are color coded according to type of media, so—,” he closes his finger in the book to keep his place and holds it up so the spine faces away from David, showing him the colorful text block. “—essay, quote, poem, letter. It makes it easy to refer back to.”</p><p class="p1">“Well. This is all very intriguing.” David looks up at Patrick, his hand wandering again to brush over a nipple. “Will you read me something from it?”</p><p class="p1">He feels Patrick shift and tense and he immediately regrets asking.</p><p class="p1">“Or not! I know I’ve already invaded your privacy enough for one day. Or, like, indefinitely.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick leans over to kiss his temple.</p><p class="p1">“No it’s fine.” He gives David the sweet smile that turns him inside out. “My boyfriend wants me to read him something so I’m going to read him something.”</p><p class="p1">He skims the pages, searching, and David averts his eyes, realizing with a turn of his stomach that he’s intruding on a very private ritual. After a moment of flipping back and forth, Patrick’s hand rests and he pulls the book a bit closer to his face, clearing his throat. The air between them is heavy.</p><p class="p1">“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.”</p><p class="p1">The nape of David’s neck pricks with goosebumps as he listens to Patrick’s low, even voice and his entire body hums.</p><p class="p1">“I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”</p><p class="p1">The words linger as Patrick closes the little book unceremoniously, turning to set it on the bedside table and David realizes his mouth is hanging open. This. This is the man who’d run his tongue between David’s trembling legs like he held the secrets of the universe there. <em>Chaotic good. </em></p><p class="p1">He feels vaguely guilty that he assumed Patrick didn’t have a part like this—soft, sensitive, wounded. That he once again did not give this endlessly surprising man on the bed next to him any credit. His eyes burn and he blinks hard.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you.” He looks up at Patrick’s face and it’s illegible as he squeezes David’s hand on his stomach in response, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular across the room. After a long moment, Patrick’s hand finds David’s chin and he lifts it gently, bringing his mouth to David’s in a soft kiss that becomes a request. </p><p class="p1">David relaxes against Patrick, melting into him, hand tracing patterns on the smooth, warm skin of his strong chest. Patrick’s hand on his chin finds the back of his neck, winding up into his still damp hair, his body angling towards David’s and David sighs against his mouth. He could lay here like this forever, their bodies pressed against each other, trading heartbeats and soft, contented sounds, his <em>sovereign</em> nose brushing Patrick’s cheek.</p><p class="p1">When Patrick comes up for air, he takes a moment to kneel, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it haphazardly on the desk chair. He stares down for a second like David is made of gold and then leans forward, pushing him back against the mattress with his strong, gentle hands. David lets himself drink Patrick in, his perfect, pink skin dewy from the shower and his eyes dark. He notes with a delicious pang of arousal that Patrick is hard under his sweatpants and warmth blooms in his belly like ink in water. His hands reach for Patrick’s waistband but Patrick is already there, sliding his sweats down and off, and then he’s naked, bathed in warm light. David finds his confidence intoxicating, his heart fluttering as Patrick swings one muscular thigh over David’s body to straddle him, flushed and lovely.</p><p class="p1">David has never known quiet, steady awareness like this before. It’s not arrogant or self-serving but rather mindful and attentive; Patrick is deliberate and purposeful with how he moves his powerful body and it makes everything he does that much sexier, like he’s been dreaming about doing it for lifetimes.</p><p class="p1">His hand comes up strong on the back of David’s neck, perfect mouth hanging open in desire and David brings his hands to Patrick’s hips, face very much in line with his incredible cock. Patrick slowly scoots himself closer to David propped up on the pillows, never breaking eye contact. </p><p class="p1">Oh so <em>this</em> is the vibe. </p><p class="p1">“Are you craving my mouth?” David purrs, moving one hand between Patrick’s legs to trace the underside of his erection with just his fingertip. Patrick takes a deep, shuddering breath at the contact, his whole body flushing beautifully, and he nods, wetting his lips with his perfect, pink little tongue. </p><p class="p1">David’s eyes shine as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to the glistening head of Patrick’s cock. The hand tightens in his hair, tugging slightly and David obliges, taking Patrick in, swirling his tongue slowly. Patrick lets out a low, keening moan that David feels curling up at the base of his spine and he moves his hands to Patrick’s ass and squeezes, pulling him deeper, his lips almost reaching the tidy auburn hair at his base. </p><p class="p1"><em>“David.” </em>Patrick breathes, hips stuttering. Patrick always says David’s name like he’s making a promise, like it’s sacred; it bruises him. The hand not firmly on David’s head reaches down to give a light tug on his balls, slowly rolling them as David starts to establish a pace. </p><p class="p1">Patrick needs to let go.</p><p class="p1">David fumbles blindly to open the drawer of the bedside table in search of the lube, which Patrick reaches over to press into his palm. Slicking up his hand, David pulls Patrick’s away from his balls and takes his place. Patrick sighs and David watches his shoulders soften as he relaxes against David’s hands and mouth, letting the sensation wash over him. As David tastes Patrick languorously, his middle finger wanders, carefully teasing the skin behind Patrick’s balls, and Patrick rolls his hips down against David’s hand. David smiles as he traces over his hole softly, fingertip light as a feather. </p><p class="p1">“David<em>, please.</em>” </p><p class="p1">Looking up to meet Patrick’s heavy-lidded gaze, David lightly circles him once more and then gently <em>gently</em> presses inside, humming softly as Patrick’s grip on his hair firms. Patrick chokes out a moan and he is tight and soft and so, so hot and David can’t stop thinking about fucking him as he slowly begins to move his hand. Patrick’s thick thighs shake above David’s chest and he murmurs David’s name over and over and over, hips faltering, unsure which direction to chase his pleasure in. David’s heaven exists inside this moment with Patrick above him, soft and surrendering. He genuinely thrills at the man his boyfriend usually is—take-charge, no-nonsense, capable—but this? This is not nothing. </p><p class="p1">This is all for him.</p><p class="p1"><em>Patrick wants this to be all for him</em>. </p><p class="p1">David can’t help but feel distinctly honored that he’s the first person Patrick has allowed to touch him in this way. To be inside him. It’s so absurdly intimate that David’s throat burns and he tries not to think about the implications. How Patrick <em>chose</em> him. He pulls off Patrick, replacing his mouth with his fingers and biting his lip, other hand still pressing into him again and again. Patrick’s hips rock unsteadily as his pleasure builds and David smiles softly up at him; he could absolutely get used to this view, between Patrick’s legs, watching him come undone.</p><p class="p1">“You’re so good, baby.” He soothes.</p><p class="p1">Patrick hums in response, a hand raking at his thigh as he starts to fall apart; David wishes he could hold it. He pulls Patrick back into his mouth, fist still moving on his shaft and then Patrick is coming hard down his throat and David is moaning louder than he is, Patrick clenching around his finger, trembling. His head falls forward and his shoulders slump as his moan ends in a contented sigh, David’s mouth still vibrating around him. He gingerly scoots down to kiss David’s forehead and then weakly dismounts his stomach, collapsing by David’s side heavily. </p><p class="p1">“Thank you.” Patrick breathes, blinking softly, pulling him in to a warm, slow kiss.</p><p class="p1">Every time Patrick thanks him, David twists. It makes him wonder how often Patrick let himself seek his own satisfaction in the past. How often he let himself want or need.</p><p class="p1">He’s suddenly very aware of how fully clothed he is with the canvas of Patrick’s body laid out next to him. Patrick smiles bashfully, looking blissful as he pulls away from David’s mouth.</p><p class="p1">“You make me selfish, David.” He says, shaking his head, his cheeks still beautifully pink, eyes dark.</p><p class="p1">David smiles softly, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning in to kiss Patrick again.</p><p class="p1">“It’s okay to be selfish.” He answers gently, his hand resting on Patrick’s waist.</p><p class="p1">Patrick nods, unconvinced.</p><p class="p1">“I know. I’m sorry. I just—sometimes I still can’t believe this is real. I’m trying not to tempt fate here.” He shakes his head again and then gives David a Look. “Also, why are you still wearing all of your clothes?”</p><p class="p1">David grins crookedly, trying to resist his urge to tease.</p><p class="p1">“Mm. Well. I don’t recall having the opportunity to undress at any point during this congress because someone was <em>very</em> eager. So.” He trails off, playfully shimmying his upper body.</p><p class="p1">Patrick blushes again, the tips of his ears red and he pushes himself up to meet David, a hand tugging at the hem of David’s t-shirt.</p><p class="p1">“Take it as a compliment, David.” He smiles his sweet, upside down grin and David lets him pull the t-shirt over his head. “Besides, now that my–,” He clears his throat. “–head is clear, I can focus on you.”</p><p class="p1">“Is that so?” David asks coyly, reclining gracefully back on the pillow again as Patrick drapes himself over David’s chest, pressing a kiss to the soft skin where his jaw meets his neck. He hums in affirmation and then pulls back to meet David’s gaze, running his fingers through David’s dark hair absentmindedly, the other hand resting on his belly.</p><p class="p1">“So.” Patrick says, hand still running through David’s hair. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?” His face is eager and sweet and David can barely stand it, screwing his mouth to the side; the anticipation is so much more intense when his heart is on the table and he knows how badly Patrick wants to be good for him.</p><p class="p1">“There are a lot of things I want.” David says carefully, his eyebrows raised, grinning up at Patrick’s open face and earning an eye roll. Patrick traces circles around his left nipple lazily and David bites his lip.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, David. So what’s your short list?” The hand that was playing with David’s nipple is now snaking down his stomach, dipping under the waistband of David’s joggers. He inhales sharply.</p><p class="p1">“You seem to be doing an exemplary job of figuring that out on your own.” David’s voice cracks as Patrick’s hand continues to wander, whispering past the head of David’s aching cock to gently tease the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.</p><p class="p1">“Am I?” Patrick bites his perfect bottom lip slowly, and then he fucking <em>winks, </em>sending electricity down David’s spine as he pinches the soft flesh of his thigh gently. David’s cock twitches. To his disappointment, Patrick’s hand slowly makes its way back north of his waistband, playing with the dark hair under his bellybutton distractedly. David huffs.</p><p class="p1">“Um. Were you planning on touching me?”</p><p class="p1">David’s not sure if he’s ready to play <em>this</em> game but Patrick seems all in.</p><p class="p1">“I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m doing right now.” He teases, his voice irritatingly steady as he bends down to mouth at a nipple, his hand tugging lightly on the hair on David’s stomach.</p><p class="p1">David feels his face fall into a Look, even as aroused as he is, and Patrick lets a chuckle escape.</p><p class="p1">“You should learn some patience David.” He shakes his head. “Luckily, I have enough for both of us considering I had to wait 30 years to find you.”</p><p class="p1">His brown eyes dance and his voice is lighthearted but David can feel in the soles of his feet that there’s nothing nonchalant about Patrick’s statement and that gravity isn’t lost on him. Against his better judgment, he feels his face soften, just slightly, and he sees Patrick internally panic for a split-second in response.</p><p class="p1">“I’m kidding, David.”</p><p class="p1">He’s not.</p><p class="p1">But before David can think too much more about how Patrick’s Definitely Not Kidding, there’s a hot, hot mouth on his right nipple and then he’s not thinking about much at all. His back arches up as Patrick’s tongue swirls around the peaking flesh.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Fuck</em>.” David whines, hand desperate on his lower back.</p><p class="p1">Patrick pulls off with a nibble and flashes him a thousand watt smile before he lowers his eyes bashfully and lets his tongue trace down David’s stomach, swirling around his bellybutton and down to the soft skin inside David’s hip, biting gently. David hums.</p><p class="p1">“Okay. Off with these.” Patrick taps on David’s hip bones and strips his joggers down carefully.</p><p class="p1">“Fucking finally.” David mutters, and Patrick gently smacks the underside of David’s thigh with his open hand.</p><p class="p1">“Be good.” Patrick chastises. His eyes flicker with something thrilling and David stomach flips. He pulls his lower lip into his mouth and raises his eyebrows and Patrick’s eyes only get darker.</p><p class="p1">The hand that smacked his thigh is now holding him there, fingers firm and hot as Patrick hikes up that leg and presses a kiss on the inside of David’s bent knee. David feels himself involuntarily shudder at the intimacy of the touch, locking eyes with him again; Patrick is grinning as he moves his mouth slowly up the inside of David’s thigh. He gestures in mock-surrender, leaning back against the pillow and Patrick follows the line of his body, hungry. David is captivated by Patrick’s desire and how wild it makes him.</p><p class="p1">Patrick’s face is now buried in the crease of his hip, tongue firm against his skin, and then he<em> bites </em>down. David whimpers.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Yes, honey. Like that.</em>
</p><p class="p1">He lets a hand weave into Patrick’s disappointingly tidy curls. Even with his face where it is, Patrick’s dignity remains intact, David ponders to himself. And then his thoughts all evaporate again as Patrick licks him between his thighs.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Jesus</em>.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick lifts his head for a moment, eyes dancing and smile sweet, bottom lip grazing David’s cock.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t think he’s listening, David.”</p><p class="p1">David laughs deep from his belly, a wrist floating up over his eyes and it turns into a groan as Patrick’s mouth swallows him half-way down. Patrick’s mouth is such a revelation to David—nothing he does ever feels rehearsed, routine; every gesture, motion, sound he makes comes from organic desire and it is one of the more beautiful things David’s ever had the privilege to bear witness to. David feels his hand tightening against the sheets as Patrick picks up the pace. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of watching his cock moving in and out of Patrick’s strong, perfect lips—of watching Patrick take care of him.</p><p class="p1">Patrick sighs contentedly around him and then pulls off, still touching David languidly. His other hand moves back to his mouth where he slowly wets his middle finger, his heavy eyes flickering up at David. When he ghosts over David’s rim, David pushes back against him and Patrick indulges him, pressing inside, firm and certain, and then taking David back in his mouth. And then–<em>fuck</em>–David is suddenly<em> right there</em>.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck, <em>wait</em>—,“ David starts and Patrick looks up, but it’s too late and David chokes out a moan as his orgasm crashes through him. By the looks of it, it’s taken Patrick by surprise too.</p><p class="p1">There is absolutely come on his face. And it’s really fucking hot.</p><p class="p1">And then Patrick licks his lips.</p><p class="p1">“Please stop. You’re killing me.” David pleads breathlessly, cock still throbbing, rubbing the inside of his knee against Patrick’s temple. Patrick grins and then pushes his middle finger back in his mouth, tasting it slowly.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Patrick Brewer</em>.” David hisses, hips still rocking slightly.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry, David.”</p><p class="p1">He’s absolutely not sorry.</p><p class="p1">Patrick winks and wets his lips, hoisting David’s leg up and over his head and rolling him to the side, allowing him to swing himself off the bed to rummage through the nightstand drawer. He surfaces with a pack of facial wipes and gestures to the label.</p><p class="p1">“Very appropriate use case we have here.”He comments gingerly, his voice tender.</p><p class="p1">David covers his face and Patrick shakes his head.</p><p class="p1">“Have I mentioned yet how this has now topped my list of The Hottest Things That Have Ever Happened to Me? Obviously, you already make a guest appearance in most of them, but you’re really the star here.”</p><p class="p1">He’s wiping himself off when David uncovers one eye with Spock fingers.</p><p class="p1">“Objectively,” David begins. “This was all hot as fuck. But I do wish I hadn’t been quite so trigger happy.”</p><p class="p1">“It appears I may be an itchy trigger finger.” Patrick agrees. His eyes are warm and he puts a hand on David’s chest.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t think I’ve ever felt sexier or more powerful in my life than I just did.” He states simply.</p><p class="p1">David eyes are soft for a moment before he rolls them, folding his arms dramatically.</p><p class="p1">“You are not at all helping me take you off my pedestal.”</p><p class="p1">“And why would I ever want to do that?” Patrick asks, shaking his head with a grin and leaning in for a short, hot kiss as he pulls on his sweatpants. He rounds the bed to turn down the sheets, pointedly pulling on the fabric under David and handing him his joggers. “I’ll work around you but you have to make my job easy.”</p><p class="p1">David obediently shifts his body accordingly until his pants are back on and he is snugly tucked between mattress and comforter. Patrick slides in next to him, propped up slightly on the pillows and presses a kiss to his freckled shoulder, wrapping an arm around his chest and pulling him in.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you.” David murmurs, feeling Patrick’s eyes on him. He gives a sideways glance and clears his throat guiltily. “Um. I’m sorry I was nosy.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick shakes his head, inhaling against David’s hair.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry I was distracted in the shower.” He murmurs, letting a hand come up against the side of David’s head, drawing it against his mouth and sitting like that for a minute, drowning himself in David’s smell.</p><p class="p1">“Do you trust me, David?”</p><p class="p1">David makes an indignant sound in the back of his throat in response and Patrick tries again.</p><p class="p1">“Right. Loaded question. Okay—do you believe that I’m generally a good person?”</p><p class="p1">David nods against the underside of Patrick’s chin and Patrick continues, fingers absentmindedly tracing along his ribcage.</p><p class="p1">“Okay. So. By association, you think that I’d tell you something important about myself when I was ready to tell you, right?”</p><p class="p1">David nods again, concerned about how intentionally vague this all sounds. </p><p class="p1">“Then hopefully you can try to trust me enough to tell you important things in my own time.” Patrick’s eyes are serious as he lowers his head to meet David’s gaze. “And in the meantime, If you want to know anything about me, you just have to ask.”</p><p class="p1">“Mhm. Okay. Well, ‘all you have to do is ask’ is also the most loaded statement in existence. How is one even supposed to know what to ask about?” David’s voice is incredulous.</p><p class="p1">Patrick chuckles quietly to himself and kisses the side of David’s face.</p><p class="p1">“Look, David—all I’m trying to say is that a perk of being in a relationship with someone is you shouldn’t have to snoop anymore. Remember how we came to that whole agreement about knowing each other?”</p><p class="p1">David’s heart flutters as he thinks of burying his face in Patrick’s shirt at the store, painfully surrendering part of himself. <em>Yes, he remembers. </em></p><p class="p1">Patrick doesn’t wait for him to answer.</p><p class="p1">“Just bear with me, okay?”</p><p class="p1">David is pretty fuzzy on the details of what he’s agreeing to but he nods anyways, letting himself settle into Patrick’s chest. Patrick’s cheek is heavy against the top of his head.</p><p class="p1">“I want this every night.” His voice is soft but clear and the words sink into David like stones. How does he just…say what he feels? Basically all the time?</p><p class="p1">Emotional availability is an art form David has never had the desire to master because the line between availability and vulnerability is basically non-existent and The Vulnerable David Rose Show is not something anyone should see, especially not someone David actually <em>likes</em> or <em>cares about</em> or <em>thinks is nice</em>. </p><p class="p1">Patrick is nice. Patrick is the <em>nicest.</em> Patrick, who knew his coffee order before their first kiss (Skim Macchiato, two sweeteners with a sprinkle of cocoa powder). Patrick, who is endlessly patient with David’s eccentric-at-best mother, high-strung sister and overbearing father. Patrick, who opens the store every morning, usually alone because David is <em>not</em> nice. Patrick, who is slowly teaching David that maybe he does deserve good things. Patrick.</p><p class="p1">Sweet Pat.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>No. Nope. We are not doing Pat.</em>
</p><p class="p1">David shakes his head to himself, echoing his inner monologue.</p><p class="p1">“What?” Patrick’s voice sounds concerned and David feels his chest tense.</p><p class="p1">“Oh. No. Nothing. Just thinking.” David pauses, his stomach flipping. “About how you’re nice.”</p><p class="p1">Ah. Straight to vulnerability. David is nothing if not consistently a disaster. But Patrick softens again underneath him and David feels another kiss on the side of his head.</p><p class="p1">“I think you’re nice, too.” It’s barely a murmur in his messy curls.</p><p class="p1">“Excuse me? Can you say that again, please?” David grins, looking up into Patrick’s blushing face.</p><p class="p1">“I’ll deny it until the day I die, David.” He leans slightly to catch David’s mouth, and David smiles against his soft lips.</p><p class="p1">“Aren’t you <em>supposed</em> to think your boyfriend is nice?”</p><p class="p1">When Patrick hears the word ‘boyfriend’ he reflexively holds David tighter. It’s way too endearing and maybe a little sexy how much Patrick is enjoying this label. David just needs to figure out the angle.</p><p class="p1">“You really like calling me your boyfriend, don’t you?” He tries not to tease.</p><p class="p1">“Of course, David. Why wouldn't I want everyone to know that you’re with me?” He sounds genuinely confused and David’s heart swells.</p><p class="p1">“I’m not saying you shouldn’t! I’m just wondering if there’s anything you find particularly…exciting about it?”</p><p class="p1">Patrick’s cheeks are pink and he bites his lip, looking at David’s mouth and definitely thinking about where it was earlier.</p><p class="p1">“I like that I get this part of you. Only me.”</p><p class="p1">Mm. There it is.</p><p class="p1">“Mm. I like that you get this part of me too.”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Vulnerability.</em>
</p><p class="p1">Patrick leans into him again, mouth hot and thirsty and David sighs.</p><p class="p1">“David, I want all of your parts.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick flashes a dazzling smile and winks, inches away from David’s face.</p><p class="p1">“Again. I’m sure we can negotiate terms.” David nods slightly, grinning, his eyebrows raised.</p><p class="p1">“Something on a semi-permanent basis is preferable.” Patrick responds, laying back down on his pillow, his eyes closing softly. David's chest tightens as he marvels from below at the sweet triangles of Patrick’s long eyelashes in the light of the bedside lamp. Being with Patrick feels like a lifetime. He feels like the before and after of everything David knows. Like he’s always existed in the curve of David’s spine—a vessel for David’s softness in the between moments.</p><p class="p1">“Are you tired?”</p><p class="p1">“No, I’m just resting my eyes, David.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay we both know that means sleeping.” David says, rubbing small circles on Patrick’s chest just below his collarbone. Patrick smiles, eyes still closed.</p><p class="p1">“Can I ask you something?” Patrick’s voice is careful and David’s heart skips a beat.</p><p class="p1">“Mhm.”</p><p class="p1">“Is there anything you want me to call you? I told you what I like but…I want to know what you like.”</p><p class="p1">David kisses his shoulder softly and pauses for a minute.</p><p class="p1">“I like when you call me David.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick opens one eye to peek down at him.</p><p class="p1">“Good. I’ve been saying it in my head for so long that I think I’m just happy I can say it out loud now.” He confesses. David’s chest tightens. What a fucking roller coaster.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks so much for that brief emotional annihilation.” He hums and Patrick shakes with soft laughter beneath him.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry David. Just being honest.” He shifts slightly.</p><p class="p1">“Well, If we’re being honest, there are also a couple other names I like <em>on occasion</em>.” David starts, looking up at his boyfriend’s peaceful face. “But they made you blush earlier.”</p><p class="p1">Patrick’s eyes fly open and his eyebrows just <em>disappear a</em>nd he is <em>definitely</em> thinking about what made him blush earlier. The hand on David’s back under the comforter squeezes hard.</p><p class="p1">“But I think that’s a conversation for another day.”</p><p class="p1">David lays his head back down and settles in, delighting in the frantic thrum of Patrick’s aroused heart in his ear.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, David.”</p><p class="p1"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Patrick is gone by the time David wakes up, as usual. Every time David has stayed over at Ray’s, Patrick has woken before the alarm and quietly snuck out, leaving David to sleep in, to his guilt and immense delight. Getting good sleep is definitely another love language, David has decided. He smiles to himself at the insulated mug on the bedside table and thinks about Patrick quietly padding back in to the dark room with the cup, wanting to spare David the effort of getting it himself. When he goes to grab it, he notices there’s a sheet of paper in a size he recognizes pinned underneath. Patrick’s tidy writing makes his stomach jump.</p><p class="p1"><em>At the touch of you,<br/>
</em> <em>As if you were an archer with your swift hand at the bow,<br/>
</em> <em>The arrows of delight shot through my body.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>You were spring,</em><br/>
<em>And I the edge of a cliff,<br/>
</em> <em>And a shining waterfall rushed over me.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <strong><em>— Witter Bynner</em> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>David,</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I had a great time last night—come by when you wake up. No rush.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>-P</em>
</p><p class="p1">Is this what being wooed feels like? David feels wooed as he folds the piece of paper and slips it in the pocket of his joggers, grinning to himself and taking a sip of coffee. He hopes this is going to be a thing.</p><p class="p1">He <em>really</em> hopes all of this is going to be a thing.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>